Conversation in A Tavern
by Pumadelic
Summary: Djaq/Will/Allan character piece set between the end of Season One and beginning of Season 2 when camp has been built. The trio are visiting a man who moves on stolen goods for Robin: disagreements, discussions of the future, emotional revelations ensue over a few pints


**Conversation in a Tavern**

Peregrine Fairfax of Radcliffe on Trent enjoyed his dealings with Robin Hood's gang. A respected trader in gold, silver and glassware, his fine goods were much sought after by up and coming noble families, those whose family crest was rather more recent than historical. He sold all the finest craft from Europe and Britain. This was his public face.

Behind the glittering facade of his well appointed oak-beamed shop, he carried out his private trade – as a fence. His clients in this respect were also exclusive: criminals who targeted the ignorant rich, criminals who needed funding for a wider social or religious purpose. Robin had been informed of Perry's activities by one of his long term spies and a secret meeting was duly arranged. After lengthy discussions, the two men agreed they had a common cause..the reinstatement of King Richard ,an end to Vaisey's insane regime and that of his sponsor, Prince John.

Perry was shrewd, utterly discreet and he had an almost miraculous knack for moving goods on while erasing any trace of their passage to their final destination. He was sixty, tall and stout with glinting, scimitar-sharp grey eyes. With Allan he always joked roughly; with Djaq he succeeded in flirting in a manner which assured her he respected her intellect and fighting strength. With Much, he sympathised about the difficulties of catering in the forest, and he deferred to John. He'd attempted to engage Will by showing him carved wooden bowls from Languedoc but the carpenter, although admiring of the work, was not admiring of his host. Allan, in contrast, was prepared to admit that he respected Perry – 'He's got his head screwed on..well, all six of his heads. What a star!' and Djaq found him charming and amusing. Will was even more taciturn than usual in any encounter with the fence, and, while remaining polite, did not respond to any pleasantry thrown his way.

Perry, acute judge of people, guessed the young carpenter's feelings for the Saracen woman and he was extra gallant with her if Will was present.

Allan, Djaq and Will had concluded business with Perry in Radcliffe and cloaked, were heading at a nonchalant pace towards the town's less popular tavern, 'The Mermaid'.

"Why does Robin trust him? I swear, one of these days, he'll live to regret it."

Allan raised an eyebrow and winked at Djaq which did nothing to improve Will's mood.

"What's your problem with Perry, mate?...not bein' funny but 'ees a godsend, and on our side. He 'ates Vaisey like poison, it's obvious."

"Maybe, but I still wouldn't trust a man who leads a double life so easily. It's ...twisted."

Djaq chimed in. "He is clever and careful. It's not as if he fences for the money...he's doing well enough without it. He believes in the causes it's funding."

"Yeh..ees a noble thief. They do exist." Allan smiled roguishly at this thought. He would never have claimed any nobility for his thieving activities before meeting Robin, but then he hadn't been in Perry's league. The man was an inspiration.

Will shrugged. "He's a thrill seeker. If he gets caught, the sheriff would probably destroy his entire family..he's got four children. Why take that risk?"

Djaq said, more seriously this time, " Will, I truly think you are unfair on him: Mr Fairfax would never endanger his family. If he suspected the sheriff was onto him, he would get them to safety at once, I'm sure."

This made them think about the risks Robin took so blithely but nobody would be disloyal enough to make the comparison.

"Yeh, " Allan added, "Djaq's right . E looks afta his own, I reckon: and as for cheating, it's only selfish nobles e don't respect."

"Just think it's creepy. We're open about how we work. The nobles know where Robin stands. This Fairfax is smiling with his eyes while he's emptying their pockets behind their backs. He probably moves stuff stolen from the people he sells to."

"Marion had to be deceitful," Djaq reminded him.

"That was different: she really didn't have much choice."

They entered the tavern. Allan offered to get the drinks while Djaq continued the debate with Will.

"You could say he is being a better family man this way. He gets to stay with his loved ones. He doesn't have to live like an outlaw. Think of poor John, all he has sacrificed ."

She could see from Will's expression that this argument moved him. His features relaxed and he favoured her with one of his shy, intense smiles. Djaq felt the warmth of his regard spread through her entire body and she was distracted from his next remark.

"Well, that much is true. I wish there was a way that John could be with Alice and his son."

At the same moment, Allan turned away from the bar. He'd wound up a brief, enjoyably flirtatious exchange with Elsie, the feisty and cynical fifty something barmaid and wanted to look around. He saw Djaq and Will, their heads only inches apart. He was smiling at her with great tenderness and Djaq, Allan could tell, was transfixed. Allan gritted his teeth. When would that boy say something to her? It was getting on his nerves. If he'd just come out and declare himself the way he had after she was captured, she'd have a chance to respond. Allan was sure of the outcome where Will lacked confidence. She had started to love him a while ago but, Djaq was Djaq; she didn't want to show her feelings, make herself vulnerable. For himself, he just wanted it to be over with. If Will and Djaq were out in the open as a couple, he could finally flick that switch in his brain and turn off all those ideas and perceptions, the seductive voices that whispered to him that she liked him, that he had a chance. And then he could bin those other voices that invariably followed. The ones that jeered : _you ignorant, thieving, two-faced, wenching, faithless, peasant – what would a quality woman like that want with the likes of you?_

"Long day, eh, Allan? There's the ale, daydreamer?" He paid Elsie and wound his way through the crowd to their table.

"There you go, mate. Down the 'atch!" He drained half his pint with one gulp, and sat down heavily.

Will thanked Allan. He was smiling now, all the anger gone. He sipped at his ale and yawned repeatedly.

"Sorry..was on an early watch today..wasn't supposed to come along but John had to break something up for Robin..." Will explained.

"You can yawn, mate – it's a free country. Well, it isn't but that's ..anyway, you've knocked yourself half senseless improving that camp."

Allan glanced slily at Djaq. "The magician of wood, e is, isn't e?. Such a clever lad."

Djaq smiled warmly at Will. She loved to hear him praised. Allan seldom gave such sincere compliments and Will was so absurdly modest, he needed such reminders of his worth.

Will blushed slightly as Djaq at Allan's prompting raised a glass to toast him. " To the genius of the home made camp!"

"One day, you will be selling your own furniture in your own shop. And it will be the most beautiful furniture in England." Djaq knew this was one of Will's most cherished dreams.

Allan took another hefty swig of ale. He tried to avoid thinking about what would happen after his stint in Sherwood . Robin might get him a pardon but what would he actually do? What was he really fit for apart from conning, thieving and poaching? As much as he enjoyed outwitting people, the glamour he'd woven over of the friendless, transient life that had been his before

the gang did not seduce him any more.

Will was grinning blearily at both Allan and Djaq. He was tired, the ale had gone straight to his head. Damn, Allan, thought, that boy had such a ludicrously sweet smile, he sometimes wanted to kiss him himself.

"You know, " he slurred slightly, " I should go to bed, I'm so sleepy now..."

Allan fished in his pocket, gave Will the key. "Don't lock it please: wanna stay down a little while longer." Will's eyes went to Djaq. Allan had arranged for her to have a separate room on the same floor as Will and himself. He'd also asked Elsie to keep an eye out for any inebriated, lascivious men who might fancy some Saracen flesh..not that Djaq couldn't look after herself, he just hated the thought of her being bothered.

"Goodnight Djaq," Will said quietly. "Sorry I was moody before."

Djaq took his hand and squeezed it briefly.

"You're entitled to your opinion, Will. Sleep well.."

He was standing there, blinking, smiling, swaying just a little and he didn't let go of Djaq's hand. Allan felt like smacking them both.

"Night, Will, " he said, far louder than was necessary. "I'll try not to disturb you when I come up."

Allan's voice broke the spell. Will dropped Djaq's hand as if it was a hot brick.

"Yeah, " he said, "try not to fall through the door like last time."

"No worries: Djaq's here and she'll keep me on the straight and narrow..right, Djaq, stay for one more drink or two..."

Will shook his head ruefully, put his hand on Allan's shoulder and loped off in the direction of the stairs.

Allan took a final, contemplative sip of ale.

"Not bein' funny..you don't hafta stay up to watch me. Not if you're tired, Djaqie. I'm not really in a mood to get drunk or anythin'"

Djaq laughed fondly.

"Since when have I been your nanny, All-an?" Christ, he loved it when she mocked him with his name like that, the teasing, elongated vowels. It caused a strange shuffling sensation in his belly region. Unless Elsie had let slip the quality control on her ale.

"Like I said, you don't hafta.."

" I am not that tired yet."

"Alright. Good." Allan searched for a quick route out of his sudden sense of exposure.

"'ees a lovely lad, isn't e? Straight as a dye, understandable how he don't get our Perry..."

Djaq nodded thoughtfully.

"He is young and life is simple to him: good or evil, nothing in between. He expects a lot of people but then he gives so much and that's what makes him so.." She stopped abruptly.

"Honourable." Allan suggested.

"Trustworthy," she agreed.

"Yes, I'd trust 'im with my life," Allan stated, seeming meditative with one eye cocked to catch Djaq's reaction.

"Handsome too. If I was a girl like Much..."

Djaq giggled, a little guilty.

"..I would marry him."

"Ah, but are you the marrying kind, Allan a Dale?"

_Oh no, you don't woman, you don't make this about me_. He went on.

"Well, I'm not a girl but Will...he is the marrying kind, don't you

think? Honest, kind, reliable..passionate too, I bet. Make some woman a fine husband."

He was actually experiencing a slight nausea as he said all this. Every word he'd uttered was true but it felt wrong coming out of his mouth. Part of him, that whispering, repressed rebellious part, wanted her to contradict him, wanted her to say _Who wants honest and reliable? I want excitement, unpredictability, trouble, grief, heartbreak.I want..I want._

"Allan..All-an?"

"Sorry, Djaq, got a bit distracted there_._As I was saying,.."

"You think Will wants to get married? Is there a girl in one of the villages?"

Allan blinked and finished off his pint. She had to be in denial. It wasn't possible for a woman as intelligent and perceptive as Djaq to be completely oblivious to the way Will looked at her. Of course, she wasn't that used to being romanced, having masqueraded as a boy for so many years. Even so...

"Er no, you know there's no girl in the village...Will's hardly the sort to sneak off, is 'e?"

She shot Allan a teasing, saucy look. The unspoken words there were 'not like me'.

Allan raised an eyebrow and his hands, his usual "I'm innocent, me" stance.

"I'm like a monk these days, not bein' funny..I've nearly forgotton how it works."

Djaq snorted. John and Much had told her stories of Allan's brief encounters with tavern girls, tales that made her laugh. She realised that both men were also warning her against taking any of Allan's flirtation seriously. Once he'd realised her gender, he'd flirted quite a lot but it had all been light and comical. She recalled the first time she'd noticed that he was actually angelically, perhaps, diabolically handsome. Will's beauty was subtler, illuminated by the intensity of his emotions and his idealism. Allan's continual playacting occluded his features. Even his trademark cheeky grin did not always reach his eyes. Always jovial and sometimes a little sad in the layer under that.. His charm had never seduced her but she was drawn like a moth to the barely visible flame of his vulnerability.

"Djaq, you're not listening to me!"

"I'm sure Will would make a fine husband..but we all have to get out of Sherwood alive first."

Allan winced. "Hey, Djaqie, don't go all doom and gloom on me." He carried on in a pensive vein. " Will was being silly about Perry though. That man has got his life sorted."

"You'd like to be like him, wouldn't you?"

He stared at her, unsure of whether to be a little offended. Her gaze was penetrating but sympathetic and not the slightest bit critical or patronising. He stood up.

"I fancy another drink. You?" Djaq insisted on buying. He watched her stride boyishly towards the bar, but her hips and buttocks were unmistakeable female, rounded. He'd always enjoyed her rear view. He caught Elsie following the line of his gaze. She winked at him. He felt his skin flush, suddenly ashamed. Not of fancying Djaq: she was gorgeous and there was nothing wrong with that. It's just that leering at her arse so some other woman noticed did not tell the truth about what he desired from her. He thought of how Will had looked at her earlier. He wished he had the guts to look at her like that. Everyone would expect him to gawp at her body. Allan A Dale, shallow lech. He'd been feeling superior , pondering on Djaq's denial. She wasn't the only one.

"There you go, Allan. Elsie says this one's on the house for Robin's crew."

Allan waved at the barmaid who smiled wickedly at him. She'd observed these three together a number of times, and she understood more than he suspected.

"So, we were talking about Perry.." Djaq didn't quit on a subject when it promised important revelations.

"I just think the bloke's a total inspiration."

Djaq looked him up and down.

"Got flies on my face, luv?"

"You know, you could be as good a businessman as he is. You can judge character, you've a head for figures, you're great at bargaining..."

"My business is bein' a thieving, lying cardsharping, poaching toerag."

"All excellent qualifications for the starting up, "Djaq continued serious as well as satirical.

"I'm not ashamed of what I've done." Allan claimed. "Can't read or write though.."

"You could learn. You are a very quick learner, Allan."

"Who would teach me?"

Djaq waved at him.

He wasn't sure if he fancied that. Bit humiliating really. Still what if he really was the fastest learner ever? She might be impressed.

"I could really see you as a tavern owner. You'd be brilliant at that."

Allan squinted into his pint. He could swear sometimes that she was truly able to read his mind. First that thing about Perry and now his favourite daydream of running a tavern or an inn, having a place of his own to game in, where he'd be the boss, having all the barmaids vye for his attentions but shunning them all in favour of...God, he hoped she couldn't read his mind.

"Well, I'd 'ave to 'ave the money to buy a building, and for growing the hops an' all that, and paying good waiting staff 'cos that makes all the difference."

"I'm sure Robin would set you up."

Allan had never considered this.

"Dunno about asking Robin for favours..and, like you said, Miss Doom, we have to get out of Sherwood alive first."

"You're a survivor, Allan. And Robin owes you for your service to him...he has the money. It wouldn't be a sacrifice."

He smiled crookedly at her. He was feeling a little dizzy. He usually held his ale well..at least until the tenth pint. Perhaps it was all this talk of the future.

"What about you, Djaq. You could have a ..wha ya call it, an apothecary shop. Dispense medicines. Imagine the effect you could have on the mortality rate round 'ere."

"An unqualified Saracen whom everyone would suspect of poisoning them?" Her tone was sarcastic rather than bitter.

Unlike Will, Allan frequently noted the suspicious looks Djaq often got. People were such idiots.

"Dunno...even the dumbest peasant..and god, some of them are dumb, even they'd see what you have to offer next to those quacks who leech em 'alfway to their coffins...unless.." He frowned. "Will you want to go back to the 'Oly Land, marry some Saracen bloke an' all that."

She nearly choked on her ale. Allan reached over and patted her on the back and continued rubbing as she caught her breath.

"No. No! I would rather die in the forest!"

"Steady on, no offense meant." He had a huge grin on his face. She didn't want to leave. He didn't know where that idea had come from. Of course she wanted to stay here. She was in love with Will, wasn't she?

"You don't ever miss 'ome?"

"The desert..my family, yes. Saracen men: no."

"What about English men?" His tone was less teasing than usual.

"They are not so bad. " Yes, he thought, especially pretty young carpenters.

"And you, " her voice was arch. "Will the legendary Mr Allan a Dale settle his charms on one particular woman in the future and settle down?"

He cranked up a roguish grin then dropped it. He was tempted to say something on the lines of..._It would be selfish to deprive all womankind by devoting myself to just one, now wouldn't it._ Instead he said.

"Well, wouldn't you like to know..."

She mused. "Stranger things have happened. You with a tavern, a devoted wife, a couple of kids with beautiful blue eyes..." She blushed faintly. Allan blinked.

"I am a bit tired now." She got up. He was still processing what she'd just said and her demeanour when she'd said it. "We've got an early start." She brushed past him but turned.

"Goodnight Allan. Perhaps you should get some sleep, too." She ruffled his hair affectionately. Usually he would have pinched her waist in response, to show her what was what, but he was aware he was teetering on the precipice of being drunk. If he touched her now, he might do something stupid, irretrievable. He might try to kiss her or worse.

"Night, Djaq. Sleep well darlin'" He made his voice as jaunty as possible and watched her walk, slightly unsteady and less boyish than usual, up the stairs, away from him.


End file.
